


home is where the heart is

by Yersina



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23072665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yersina/pseuds/Yersina
Summary: Jisung forces his eyes to stay open despite the tendrils of sleep pulling at him, despite how it's so late that the sun is starting to peek above the horizon again, despite Hyunjin's whispered attempts to get him to sleep, becauseMinho's coming home.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 12
Kudos: 193





	home is where the heart is

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in a single afternoon on a whim pls send help
> 
> eta: the lovely xxuslreshh has translated this work into [russian](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9184683)!

Jisung loves the night. 

He loves sunshine and flowers and brightness, loves the splash of warmth on their floor in the afternoon and the rosy hue of the sky as the sun peeks above the horizon, but there’s something just deep and fathomless about the night that makes him want to wrap himself up in it and never leave. He’s not picky about it happens either—the comfort of sleep is just as appealing as the haze of inspiration that clings to his vision through the tiredness in the quiet hours of the morning. 

Today, he’s curled up contentedly in bed, savoring the gentle softness of his covers and drifting happily in between sleep and awareness. Thoughts barely given form float through his mind, more feelings than words, and he easily lets them go without chasing after them. There’s an unwritten melody echoing soundlessly in his ears, one that begs to be jotted down and given form, but every time he rouses enough to think to get out of bed or grab his phone, the arm slung across his waist shifts minutely and his limbs return to their leaden state. 

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Hyunjin whispers at him after the third time this happens. He’s taken to rubbing soothing circles on Jisung’s hip instead and Jisung’s limbs feel boneless instead of leaden now. His thoughts are on the verge of dissolving into the bottomless night, fragments drifting slowly away from him until he falls headfirst into slumber.

But this is Hyunjin and he’s Jisung, so he reluctantly pulls himself back together, just enough to inch up the bed and knock his forehead against Hyunjin’s sternum with a dull thunk and a wordless whine. Then, congratulating himself on a job well done, he sinks back into the mattress and lets a smile pull at his lips at the sound of Hyunjin’s soft huff of laughter and the feeling of gentle fingers combing through his hair. “Need to shower,” Jisung warns in a barely intelligible mumble, muffled into Hyunjin’s sleep shirt.

“Ew, that’s disgusting.” Nevertheless, the fingers remain, playing lightly across his scalp and sending pleasant tingles down Jisung’s spine every now and then. “You didn’t have to stay up, you know. God knows you need the sleep.”

“Haven’t seen him in…” Jisung’s tired mind can’t be bothered to do the math. _Too many,_ it offers instead. “A lot of days.” He feels Hyunjin’s chuckle more than hears it. “Miss him,” he adds quietly, words nearly lost in a mouthful of cotton and the vacuum of midnight.

Hyunjin is quiet for a long moment and the silence fills Jisung’s ears with unspoken words and half-formed thoughts. The hand on his head trails downwards to rest against Jisung’s nape and play with the short, soft hair there and Jisung lets the sensation wash over him like a waterfall of honey. “Me too.” 

It’s simple but truthful and Jisung could write a thousand songs and never come close to capturing the emotion that he hears in that quick second at that late hour of the night. _Resigned, exasperated, forlorn, heart-sick—_ he tries them all and discards them. There's no love song for your own love.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” Hyunjin continues, thumb creeping up Jisung’s jaw and brushing against the hollow behind his ear. “He worries about your health a lot but he’s gonna be touched to know that you stayed up.”

Jisung scoffs, because _of course_ Minho is. If he isn’t, then Jisung is going to kick his ass, because as much as he loves the wispy hours of not-quite-today-anymore, he could be sleeping right now. _In the morning,_ he amends after a second of consideration. _Ass-kicking in the morning._ Now is the time for half-spun dreams, not bodily injury. “You too,” he makes sure to say instead. “Loves you too,” because this is Hyunjin and he’s Jisung and even with Minho mediating, they’ve never quite managed to communicate on the same wavelength, but this is something that Jisung will never let go unsaid. “Love you,” he trills softly and inches up the bed again so he can tuck himself beneath Hyunjin’s chin. 

He whines when Hyunjin pulls away but settles, mollified, when he merely presses a kiss to the crown of Jisung’s head and returns to his previous position. “Love you too,” he whispers back, and any other words that would’ve been released into the darkness of their bedroom are snatched back by the sound of their front door squeaking open and a simultaneous thump and hissed curse. “What do you think his troupe would think if they knew their graceful leader always manages to trip over the rug in the doorway?” Hyunjin whispers to Jisung and that’s how Minho finds them, stifling giggles into each other’s shoulders, bright spots of sounds to rival the stars in the sky.

“Not even five minutes back at home and you assholes are already laughing at me,” Minho complains, voice startlingly loud in comparison to their whispered confessions. “I should’ve just stayed in America.”

Jisung turns around in Hyunjin’s arms and opens his struggling eyes wide, drinking in the sketch of Minho’s form in the cold light of the moon trickling in through their window. It’s exactly the same as he remembers, all sharp lines and lithe muscles, and it feels as much like _home_ to him as the squeaky door that they always forget to oil and the creaky floorboard right outside the bathroom. His heart thumps heavily in his chest once, twice, three times before he opens his mouth. “It’s not too late to go back.”

“You asshole,” Minho repeats and Jisung could cry from the fondness laced through his voice. “God, I missed you.” 

Jisung suddenly can’t breathe past the lump in his throat, much less croak out the right words, so he just opens his arms and pleads with his eyes until Minho collapses into bed next to them, still smelling of recycled airplane air and hotel shampoo, and Jisung can finally pull him into his arms again. He doesn’t feel any shame in latching onto Minho like a limpet, too busy soaking up the feeling of Minho’s body pressed against his own. He’s not sure what sound he makes, but there’s wetness in his eyes and soreness in his throat, and all that matters is the feeling of Minho’s arms tightening around his body.

“Hey there,” Minho murmurs, lips brushing Jisung’s ear as he speaks. “You okay?”

Jisung just hums. Even he’s not sure what the answer is.

“Maybe _I_ should travel overseas for a week or two, if Sungie’s gonna react like that,” Hyunjin says from behind him, hand settling onto Jisung’s waist tentatively. 

Jisung knows that Hyunjin is joking, can hear the laugh in his voice, but his heart skips a beat just at the suggestion. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he grits out wetly. “I swear to god I will tackle you before you reach security, you know I will.” 

He hates that he sounds so insecure, that his entire being rebels at the idea of being stuck somewhere _alone_ after so many years of being _together._ He’s had countless reassurances from both Minho and Hyunjin that it’s okay, that he just loves deeply and passionately, that they don’t mind and that they love him back just as much, but something inside him still urges him to clutch onto them desperately, like they could slip from his grasp at any moment if he’s any less diligent. 

Hyunjin’s surprise is broadcast in the way his hand draws back slightly from Jisung’s side but before he can say anything, Minho pushes Jisung onto his back so he can prop himself with his hands and look Jisung in the eye. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he soothes, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jisung’s forehead, and the anxiety ebbs away again. “Neither of us are going anywhere.” _Not right now,_ a voice in Jisung’s mind amends viciously, but he quiets it with the sight of Minho in front of him and Hyunjin’s steady presence next to him. 

“You’d better not,” he mutters. His heart lifts at the sight of the cute little smile ticking up at the corner of Minho’s lips and the tips of his ears grow hot when Minho swoops in to dot a swift kiss on his nose.

“How is he so adorable?” Minho directs his question at Hyunjin, who makes a face at Jisung that Jisung immediately returns. 

“He doesn’t seem like all that much to me,” Hyunjin hedges and Jisung reflexively puffs up indignantly.

“Excuse you, I am the most adorable one here,” he blurts before realizing that he’s walked into a trap. Hyunjin grins widely and gently nudges Minho out of the way so he can crawl over and draw Jisung into a kiss that somehow exudes smugness in a way that only Hyunjin can manage. It’s spoken wordlessly through the hand Hyunjin has cupping Jisung’s jaw and the soft grunt of annoyance that escapes Minho as he falls back onto the mattress, and Jisung is in equal parts enamoured and reluctantly amused. 

Jisung hums contentedly into the kiss, enjoying the minute shiver that it sends through Hyunjin, but it’s only a few more seconds before the position grows too uncomfortable and Hyunjin has to pull away. “Yes you are,” Hyunjin finally confirms before yelping at the finger Minho pokes into his side forcefully.

“Excuse me, but _I’m_ the one who’s been gone for five weeks, so clearly _I’m_ the one more deserving of a kiss right now.” 

Jisung rolls his eyes and risks taking a tumble off the bed in order to tackle Minho onto his side and sprawl half on top of him before pressing a kiss to his lips, languid and sweet in a way that speaks of ‘I love you’s whispered over a crackly phone connection and days painstakingly counted down to their reunion. ‘Missed you,’ it whispers with a slide of tongue and an impression of teeth, and Jisung’s heart finally feels whole again. 

Only a second after Jisung draws away to catch his breath, fluttering his eyes open slowly, he gets the air squeezed out of him with a body splayed over his own as Hyunjin decides that Jisung is an acceptable casualty in his quest to get his own kiss from Minho. “There, now we’re all even,” he declares happily, tickling Jisung’s sides until he squirms off of Minho and onto his back between the two of them. 

“You didn’t have to squish me beneath you to do it,” Jisung says, but any hostility in his voice is leached away by the twinkle in Hyunjin’s eye and the grasp that Minho still has on his hand. 

“No, but that was a bonus,” Hyunjin replies cheekily.

“You—” Minho snakes his arms around Jisung’s waist before he can lunge across the bed and wrestle Hyunjin into submission, tucking his chin over Jisung’s shoulder and effectively restraining him with unfortunate ease of practice.

“Children,” he begins imperiously, and Jisung and Hyunjin roll their eyes in unison, “it’s so late that it’s practically early again, and I just got off a thirteen hour flight plus one hour bus ride, so if you two are going to kill each other, do it when I’m well-rested and can properly enjoy it.” 

Jisung thinks about protesting, but Minho’s body heat is pleasant against his back and Jisung is reminded that he hasn’t been able to share the bed with the both of them in over a month, so he lets it go as easily as he does the vague thoughts that come to him on the verge of sleep. He settles into Minho’s embrace, both of them shifting limbs in practiced routine until Minho can be reasonably sure that his arm won’t be completely dead in the morning, and Jisung doesn’t have anything digging uncomfortably into his side. 

Hyunjin waits for their dance to finish before brushing one last kiss to Minho’s cheek and tucking himself along Jisung’s front, but not too close because Hyunjin dislikes the heat but likes the closeness and Jisung will inevitably migrate in his direction over the course of the night anyway.

It’s this position that ultimately makes Jisung’s mind settle down, stopping the whispers of ‘when?’ and ‘something's missing’ and calming his heart until it no longer feels like it’s aching for something that never left. It feels like second nature to wait for Minho’s breaths to get long and deep, alternately warming and cooling Jisung’s neck where Minho’s nose is pressed. It’s almost instinct to reach across the scant space that separates him and Hyunjin and tangle their fingers together loosely, Jisung’s fingers cold against Hyunjin’s warm palm. It’s something intrinsically _home_ to breathe in the warmth of three people and greet the morning with closed eyes and a full heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://littlenookofnonsense.tumblr.com/) | [twt](https://twitter.com/yersin_a) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/yersin_a)


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